


It's Called Fashion

by madness_and_smiles



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:37:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1450498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madness_and_smiles/pseuds/madness_and_smiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had the style, the gift, and the hope… What could go wrong? Except that when Sam answered the door, he burst out laughing. “Call the press, Captain America’s spying on his dates in order to make sure their outfits don’t clash! It’s an outrage against our civil liberties!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Called Fashion

**Author's Note:**

> For Mal on the occasion of her birthday, now being put onto ao3 because the world always needs more Steve/Sam

Steve had been to the barbers maybe twenty odd times over his life, and he knew it was a pretty simple concept. A spin in the chair, a quick snip, and boom – just like his mother used to do on the bathroom tiles when he was a kid. But this time… this time was different. Not just because New York had been recently razed to the ground, and not just because now Steve had money to pay for the haircut a hundred times over. It’s because this time, instead of just asking for the usual (and in the army or on the streets of Brooklyn, there was always a “usual”) Steve came in with a picture cut carefully out of a magazine.

“I was hoping you could get it to look something like this – none of the colors or anything, nothing that fancy. Just, y’know, different.” Steve smiled pleasantly, and the girl holding the scissors shrugged before taking a really good look at Steve and realizing who exactly he was. For a second Steve thought she was about to complain about defacing what the news has charmingly dubbed “Captain America’s boy scout swoop”, but instead she just smirked.

“Are you sure you don’t want any color? I think red, white, and blue would work pretty well.”

“Let’s just take this one step at a time, okay? I’m nervous enough as it is.”

He said it as a joke, but truth be told, Steve had really been a little nervous. A little afraid that maybe he wouldn’t recognize himself afterwards. Like if he got rid of this, it was a step towards getting rid of everything and he would just… fall. But looking in the mirror and running a hand through his new coif, he had to say it didn’t feel like that. If anything, it felt like solid footing.

After the haircut, everything else came pretty easily. Buying clothes, choosing a style, it was all just building blocks now. Putting up walls and a roof and making a new identity for himself in a new world.

Steve like the way his new jeans hung low on his hips, he liked knowing the difference between snapbacks and baseball caps. He liked parsing through chucks and jordans and oxfords, and the way his closet went from mauve to burnt orange. It’s not like he became much of a fashionista, but Steve learned how to look like he wanted. He became someone other than a frozen icon, he became a person again.

So, given all this new exposure to style and identity, it was pretty frustrating for Steve to be rummaging through his drawers like a madman, and coming up with nothing good for a date night. A suit felt way too formal, but flannel made it seem like he didn’t care. A jacket and tie hit a little too close to cruddy dates at the world fair, and his military dress would probably fill Sam with equal parts concern and hilarity.

Steve didn’t know if it was normal to just drop in on a guy you’d just met running around the National Mall at work and ask for a date, but like getting a new haircut, he knew it was something he wanted to do. He knew it was something that felt right, and that Sam should be more than just a pop-culture reference in his little notebook.

Of course when Steve had caught the end of Sam’s counseling session at the VA, he had canned the idea as a decidedly bad one. Timing was never something Steve could really get right. But then Sam had grinned and said,

“So, what does a guy who runs thirteen miles every morning do for _fun_? Pilates?” And it had been so warm and playful that Steve leaned into the joke without thinking.

“Aw, you didn’t think that was fun? Maybe we don’t have much in common as I thought.”

“Maybe we’ll have to get to know each other a bit more then.”

“Another run tomorrow? Think you might be able to keep up this time?”

“I was thinking,” Sam laughed, “something more along the lines of dinner and a movie at my place. Lotta things to knock out of that notebook of yours, right?”

And it’s possible that Sam hadn’t meant it as a date. It’s possible that the way he shook Steve’s hand afterwards had been meant a totally friend goodbye, but Steve had caught the way he held on for an extra second, and the wink that got sent his way, and maybe he didn’t have a ton of experience dating since 1945 (or… any) but he wasn’t stupid. He could pick up a hint.

Which brought Steve back to his current situation, standing in nothing but a pair of socks and briefs holding up shirt after shirt and deciding that nothing was quite right. Nothing made Steve look quite the way he wanted to look. Boots were too aggressive, and Steve couldn’t bring himself to really like the way polo shirts set on his shoulders.

But then, then he saw it. A piece of red cloth hanging at the back of his closet. A bowtie.

Throw it together with a colorful button down and a pair of suspenders and Steve felt pretty close. A touch of the old with the flare of the new. Respectful, fun, and with a touch of the awkward hope that Steve felt about the night before him. Steve left his apartment feeling pretty dapper in all the right ways, and picked up a case of microbrewery beer he’d grown to like in the past couple months (flowers seemed slightly out of place).

He had the style, the gift, and the hope… What could go wrong?

Except that when Sam answered the door, he burst out laughing.  

“Call the press, Captain America’s spying on his dates in order to make sure their outfits don’t clash! It’s an outrage against our civil liberties!”

Sam was standing in the doorway in a bowtie, suspenders, and a checked red and white shirt, and as he led the way through his house, Steve couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, he made the right decision. Even if their matching did make them look a little like a barbershop quartet.

“So this really is a date, right?” Steve asked, setting the beer on the table.

“Unless I completely misread the hundred signals you were sending my way the other day, yeah, this is a date. That okay?”

“More than okay,” Steve popped open a beer and handed it to Sam, then opened one for himself. “I just might be a little out of practice.”

Sam clinked his bottle against Steve’s.

“I’m sure we’ll get you up to speed soon.”

The rest of the night was Sam making Steve laugh so hard during dinner that he almost had to spit out his Pad Thai, followed by a movie that turned into an intense make-out session on the couch. Sam’s kisses were hot and playful, his hands brushing along Steve’s chest in a way that made him arch and sigh.

“Sorry about the movie,” Sam said once they were sweaty and shirtless and the credits were rolling, “I know it was on your list.”

“You know what? I’m not too broken up about it,” Steve said with a laugh, and he pushed Sam back down onto the couch. “Besides, I was sort of hoping this wouldn’t be my only chance to watch a movie with you.” He leaned down and nuzzled his nose into Sam’s neck, slowly breathing in. Steve could feel Sam’s laugh reverberated through his chest in a low rumble, and the feel of it caused whole body to heat up.

“If that’s your way of asking me for a second date, then I’m sold. Put me down for a third and a fourth too, while you’re at it.” Sam said before cupping Steve’s face and kissing him again, soft and sweet.

Yeah, slowly but surely Steve was finding his place here. The future was going to be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> "the future was going to be just fine..." until Captain America became a wanted fugitive literally the next day


End file.
